His Final Bargain. Melanie Milburne
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silence hummed for a long moment. She felt it pushing against her ears like two hard hands.
‘That must be very hard for someone like you,’ he said. ‘You obviously love children.’
‘I do, but it’s not meant to be.’
‘What about IVF?’
‘It’s not an option.’
‘Why are you still tied to him if he can’t give you what you want?’
‘There’s such a thing as commitment.’ She clenched her hands so hard the diamond of her ring bit into the flesh of her finger. ‘I can’t just walk away because things aren’t going according to plan. Life doesn’t always go according to plan. You have to learn to make the best of things—to cope.’
He glanced at her again. ‘It seems to me you’re not coping as well as you’d like.’
‘What makes you say that? You don’t know me. We’re practically strangers.’
‘I know you’re not in love.’
Eliza threw him a defensive look. ‘Were you in love with your wife?’
A knot of tension pulsed near the corner of his mouth and she couldn’t help noticing his hands had tightened slightly on the steering wheel. ‘No. But then, she wasn’t in love with me, either.’
‘Then why did you get married?’
‘Giulia got pregnant.’
‘That was very noble of you,’ Eliza said. ‘Not many men show up at the altar because of an unplanned pregnancy these days.’
His knuckles whitened and then darkened as if he was forcing himself to relax his grip on the steering wheel. ‘I’ve always used protection but it failed on the one occasion we slept together. I assumed it was an accident but later she told me she’d done it deliberately. I did the right thing by her and gave her and our daughter my name.’
‘It must have made for a tricky relationship.’
He gave her a brief hard glance. ‘I love my daughter. I’m not happy that I was tricked into fatherhood but that doesn’t make me love her any less.’
‘I wasn’t suggesting—’
‘I had decided to marry Giulia even if Alessandra wasn’t mine.’
‘But why?’ she asked. ‘You said you weren’t in love with her.’
‘We were both at a crossroads. The man she had expected to marry had jilted her.’ His lip curled without humour. ‘You could say we had significant common ground.’
Eliza frowned at his little dig at her. ‘So it was a pity pick-up for both of you?’
His eyes met hers in a flinty little lock before he returned to concentrating on the traffic. ‘Marriage can work just as well, if not better, when love isn’t part of the arrangement. And it might have worked for us except Giulia struggled with her mood once Alessandra was born. It was a difficult delivery. She didn’t bond with the baby.’
Eliza had met a number of mothers who had struggled with bonding with their babies. The pressure on young mothers to be automatically brilliant at mothering was particularly distressing for those who didn’t feel that surge of maternal warmth right at the start. ‘I’m very sorry…It must have been very difficult for you, trying to support her through that.’
Lines of bitterness were etched around his mouth. ‘Yes. It was.’
He didn’t speak much after that. Eliza sat back and looked at the spectacular scenery as they drove along the Amalfi coast towards Positano. But her mind kept going back to his loveless marriage, the reasons for it, the difficulties during it and the tragic way it had ended. He was left with a small child to rear on his own. Would he look for another wife to help him raise his little girl? Would it be another loveless arrangement or would he seek a more fulfilling relationship this time? She wondered what sort of woman he would settle for. With the sort of wealth he had he could have anyone he wanted. But somehow she couldn’t see him settling for looks alone. He would want someone on the same wavelength as him, someone who understood him on a much deeper and meaningful level. He was a complex man who had a lot more going on under the surface than he let on. She had caught a glimpse of that brooding complexity in that bar in Rome four years ago. That dark shuttered gaze, the proud and aloof bearing, and the mantle of loneliness that he took great pains to keep hidden.
Was that why she had connected with him so instantly? They were both lonely souls disappointed by experiences in childhood, doing their best to conceal their innermost pain, reluctant to show any sign of vulnerability in case someone exploited them.
Eliza hadn’t realised she had drifted off to sleep until the car came to a stop. She blinked her eyes open and sat up straighter in her seat. The car was in the forecourt of a huge, brightly lit villa that was perched on the edge of a precipitous cliff that overlooked the ocean. ‘This isn’t the same place you had before,’ she said. ‘It’s much bigger. It must be three times the size.’
Leo opened her door for her. ‘I felt like I needed a change.’
She wondered if there had been too many memories of their time together in his old place. They had made love in just about every room and even in the swimming pool. Had he found it impossible to live there once she had left? She had often thought of his quaint little sun-drenched villa tucked into the hillside, how secluded it had been, how they had been mostly left alone, apart from a housekeeper who had come in once a week.
A place this size would need an army of servants to keep it running smoothly. As they walked to the front door Eliza caught a glimpse of a huge swimming pool surrounded by lush gardens out the back. Scarlet bougainvillea clung to the stone wall that created a secluded corner from the sea breeze and the scent of lemon blossom and sun-warmed rosemary was sharp in the air. Tubs of colourful flowers dotted the cobblestone courtyard and a wrought iron trellis of wisteria created a scented canopy that led to a massive marble fountain.
A housekeeper opened the front door even before they got there and greeted them in Italian. ‘Signor Valente, signorina, benvenuto—’
‘English please, Marella,’ Leo said. ‘Miss Lincoln doesn’t speak Italian.’
‘Actually, I know a little,’ Eliza said. ‘I had a little boy in my class a couple of years ago who was Italian. I got to know his mother quite well and we gave each other language lessons.’
‘I would prefer you to speak English with my daughter,’ he said. ‘It will help her become more fluent. Marella will show you to your room. I will see you later at dinner.’
Eliza frowned as he strode across the foyer to the grand staircase that swept up in two arms to the floors above. He had dismissed her again as if she was an encumbrance that had been thrust upon him.
‘He is under a lot of strain,’ Marella said, shaking her head in a despairing manner. ‘Working too hard, worrying about the bambina; he never stops. His wife…’ She threw her hands in the air. ‘Don’t get me started about that one. I should not speak ill of the dead, no?’
‘It must have been a very difficult time,’ Eliza said.
‘That child needs a mother,’ Marella said. ‘But Signor Valente will never marry again, not after the last time.’
‘I’m sure if he finds the right person he would be—’
Marella shook her head again. ‘What is that saying? Once bitten, twice shy? And who would take on his little girl? Too much trouble for most women.’
‘I’m sure Alessandra is a delightful child who just needs some time to adjust to the loss of her mother,’ Eliza said. ‘It’s a huge blow for a young child, but I’m sure with careful handling she’ll come through it.’
‘Poor little bambina.’ Marella’s